


Man Loses Last Bit of Hope He Didn’t Even Know He Had

by Jaetion



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Fluff, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Beta Read, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 15:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18391559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaetion/pseuds/Jaetion
Summary: Travis mopes following his first - and probably only - assignation. Takes place after "Area Man Unsure if He's Male-Bonding or Being Bullied."





	Man Loses Last Bit of Hope He Didn’t Even Know He Had

**Author's Note:**

> Another funny Onion headline.

Everything about everything was new to Travis: playing cool, having something to play it cool about, having someone to play it cool to. Right now it was Piper, who was drafting an article about water quality as Travis did his damndest not to hunch as he sat with his coffee. It was another new thing, swapping news with her instead of having to eavesdrop on her conversations for something to say over the radio. Finally he couldn’t hold it back anymore and interrupted her with a question that’d been plaguing him for days, “How do you know if it’s more than one-night stand?”

Piper’s pen scraped to a stop and the reporter looked up at him. Her expression was thoughtful and she gave the question some time, mulling it over long enough that Travis began to form expectations for something profound, even life-changing. She looked him straight in the eye as she answered, “If it happens more than once.”

Words of wisdom. “Thanks.”

She chuckled and stretched back in her chair. “I don’t know, Travis. I’m married to my work and Publick Occurrences would not be happy if I spent my nights with someone else.” After another chuckle, the smile slipped away and Piper’s eyes narrowed. Her reporter’s face, Travis recognized and prepared himself for a barrage of bad news. She never disappointed. “I heard about it: you were dragged out of the Dugout by a raider. There are three gangs in Nuka-World and he wasn’t wearing the colors of any of them, but he really did come from the park. Story checked out. Danny said he only let him in because the guards were busy with super mutants. I’m surprised you woke up at all, let alone with all your organs and radio intact.”

“He’s not exactly a raider,” Travis argued weakly, knowing it was a moot point but was compelled to say it anyway. Regardless, it was important to defend RedEye’s honor. “But point taken.”

“Admittedly the Diamond City dating pool is pretty small. But I never figured you’d go for a bad boy. I’m not saying that they can’t be fun, in a I’m-going-to-regret-this-if-I-remember-it-in-the-morning sort of way…”

“I wish I had more experience with it all.” Privately he amended that: he wanted more experience, sure, but he wanted it specifically with RedEye. And then, for all his affectations of composure, Travis couldn’t stop himself from blushing at the memory of just how fun it had been. Once he went down that path, it was hard to find his footing again. “He wasn’t - I mean, he’s a DJ too and so there was a lot to, um, talk about -”

“No judgment,” Piper said, holding up her hands in conciliation. “Publick Occurrences is not a gossip rag. And hey, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. It’s rough out there; we could all use a little happiness.”

She grinned at him and he grinned back. When hers turned impish he felt himself starting to blush again and had to seriously work on not sinking down into his seat. But the grin stayed on all the way back to his studio.

“This one’s one of my favorites. Sometimes all you want is a ‘Sixty Minute Man,’ am I right, folks?” 

And then there was “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On.” He announced as he queued it for play, “A great number to dance to! So grab a partner and start moving!”

The songs with the fastest beats and the slyest lyrics, the ones that made him tap his heels against his chair, the ones that he hummed to himself long after they ended - He loaded up the radio with anything loud and rowdy, and Diamond City bopped along with him. 

And maybe gave him a couple of knowing winks. Travis ran his hands through his hair, which didn’t feel half as nice as having someone else do it, and continued to tryto play it cool. Finger guns. Finger guns everywhere.

“I’m Travis ‘Not-So-Lonely’ Miles coming at you live from the Great Green Jewel herself at the center of the Commonwealth. It’s a hell of a day in a hell of a city! And wherever you are, folks, even if its way out west in the hinterlands, thanks for listening. I mean that.” 

What if he stopped dancing around it, used the radio like a personal pre-war phone line? There hadn’t been much time for talking in between the… Well, between the sheets, as it were. He wanted more of that, definitely. And more time for actual conversation. The memories of it kept Travis going, but it was almost impossible to be content with the mundane status quo now that he knew what else was out there. Who else was out there.

Mood started to droop a little as the days went by. As “One More Tomorrow” came to an end, Travis puffed out a slow breath that left his chest feel strangely achy. “That was Marjorie Hughes. What a voice! Listening to that got me thinking, folks. You find someone, you hold onto them, you get that tomorrow with them.”

Later when Betty Hutton came back into rotation, Travis tapped the holo on his desk, debating sending it back to the bottom of the box. Morosely he relented and added it to that playlist, but he couldn’t help grousing before it went on. “Next up is ‘He’s a Demon, He’s a Devil, He’s a Doll.’ I can relate. Trust me, listeners, men like this do exist in real life. Watch out for them. Just a bit of advice from me, Travis ‘Back-to-Lonely’ Miles.” 

After he finished a day in the studio with only crazy Myrna coming by with a new commercial for him to read, Travis was less than enthusiastic about another night at the Dugout Inn. He went anyway and nursed his single drink much longer than was necessary. His studio was emptier than ever and the vastness of his mattress? Way too big for a single person.

Days went on and now his mood plummeted, like he’d been kicked off a cliff. The gloom that had plagued him was creeping up the horizon again. Just proved that optimism was absolutely useless as a doctrine. Piper had been right when she’d cautioned him - course she'd been referring getting bones broken and not his heart. The whole thing had dangerous. And stupid. And he was to boot. He tried to convince himself he was better off. Like song lyrics he repeated that to himself. All it did was give him a headache.

“All right listeners, the day’s coming to an end and that means that the show is too. Just for the night, of course; Diamond City Radio will be here for you in the morning. Whether you’re going out of staying in, I hope you’re not lonesome tonight. And if you are, well, how about a song to keep you - and me - company.” Travis exhaled a quiet sigh and bent toward the microphone again. “Here’s ‘Keep A Knockin.’ Now I’m not Louis Jordan, but um, if someone was knocking at my door, I might just open it up.” 

With a click the holo slid into position and the slow beat of the jazzy song filled his studio. His chair squeaked a complaint as he leaned back in it, but it at least it didn't dump him on the floor. As soon as he propped his feet up comfortably on his desk, a hard banging started on his door. The knocking continued loud and fast until Travis got to the door and pulled it open.

Leather jacket, satisfied smirk, eyebrow quirked over those nice eyes. Even with him standing there on the stairs, Travis couldn’t really believe it. “RedEye!”

“How’s that for fucking perfect timing?” he bragged. As barged his way into the studio, he said loud enough that Piper probably heard it all the way in her office, “Who’s the best? I’m the best!”

Travis locked the door behind him.


End file.
